of a wonderful good song.” He turned his head and rested it on her shoulder. “You do know that this,” he said, prying the sponge from her hand, “isn’t necessary? I have a dishwasher.”
Turning her to face him, he brushed wayward bangs from her eyes with a tender sweep of his long fingers. “May I have this dance?”
Lauren nodded and his large body enveloped her smaller one as she tried in desperation to remember how to dance.
And breathe.
After what seemed an eternity, her feet finally began to shuffle along with his. He pulled her closer, encircling her with his strong arms, and used his own gently swaying hips to coax hers back into their previous rhythm.
Her breath caught in her throat as Jamie traced his fingertips across her shoulder blades. “You know, I just can’t remember the last time I danced with such a beautiful woman.”
Oh! He thinks I’m beautiful! In a fit of shyness, she lowered first her gaze, then her head. She nestled against him, rubbing her cheek against his well-defined chest, willing herself to absorb his essence, his body heat. His heartbeat.
She reveled in their reflection in the large picture window across the room, where she saw the look of sincere pleasure on Jamie’s face. Then her eyes drifted closed in contentment, savoring the thrill of it all. This gorgeous, brilliant man was happy to be dancing with her!
“Mmmm,” she murmured against his chest, feeling braver and more relaxed by the moment. “You smell exactly like a man should.”
“Oh?” He stilled. “And just how should a man smell?”
She smiled coyly up at him. “Like equal parts soapy clean, great cologne, and—” Lauren stood on her tip toes and breathed against his ear, “testosterone.”
“Is that a fact?” He turned his head to face her, his blue-green eyes gleaming in the evening’s half-light. “Well now, I’m so glad I measure up to your satisfaction.” He resumed dancing, his large hand sliding lower down her back, his hard thighs brushing tantalizingly close to hers.
She lifted her head in what she hoped was a subtle hint that she wanted him to kiss her. On cue, he lowered his face to hers, first pressing the lightest of kisses against her temple, then grazing her cheek with another. Dipping lower, his gaze settled on her parted lips.
He spoke again, this time sounding far away…
“I’m sorry I took so long.” Jamie appeared from the darkened hallway and returned the phone to its resting place.
Lauren lurched back to reality. Her mouth snapped shut, her eyes flew open wide at being caught dancing around the kitchen by herself with a wet plate clutched to her chest, her grip on the wet ceramic plate she clutched to her bosom momentarily becoming an uncertain thing.
He strode across the room, reached for the plate and rag, and pulled them from her unresisting hands. When his arm brushed against hers, she shivered at the contact of the cool skin of his forearm on her own overheated one. Positioning himself just to the left of her, he began to dry the rest of the dishes she had washed.
“I didn’t mean to abandon you like that. And I certainly didn’t mean for you to pitch in with the kitchen work again.” He pulled another plate from the drying rack. “You do know this isn’t necessary—I have a dishwasher.”
Lauren whipped around to stare at him. Did he say what I think he just said?
“Then again, maybe you’re just an old-fashioned kinda gal who doesn’t go for those newfangled modern conveniences
The clock on the mantle struck nine o’clock, and Lauren jumped at the sound. “Oh, gosh! I didn’t realize it was so late.” She bit her lip in consternation. “I hate to end this, but I have school tomorrow and I need to go in early to get some projects set up.”
To her surprise, Jamie looked a bit disappointed.
“I suppose I ought to walk you downstairs. Would you like to take some of that cheesecake home with you? Just in case you feel like a little
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